


yours, yandere.

by moonsofceres



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Other, rating to increase as it unfolds, yandere character eventually
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:08:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23610568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonsofceres/pseuds/moonsofceres
Summary: I always thought he ran away because he wanted to be somewhere else. That he was running away from me. I know now that it was much worse than that.
Relationships: Apprentice/Asra (The Arcana), Asra (The Arcana)/Original Character(s), Asra Alnazar/Ceres Hedera
Kudos: 5





	1. then

I don't notice when I walk past him.

Not with my eyes, anyway.

A gentle thrum of static, a soft spark along the breeze.

Though it's none of those things.

I feel it for what it truly is when my own static sparks in turn, reaching out ever so slightly as it passes.

It's magic.

But more than that, I feel his prescence. 

His _smile_.

I turn around to see, gathering my shawl with me as my upper body turns, still moving, although slower.

The dust storm is quietier today, though I cover my lower face anyway as I turn towards the dusty purple haze.

There's enough people at the market that the small distance has already filled with mutiple others between our passing forms, though I recognise those shoudlers, puffs of fluffy white hair beneth a wide brimmed black hat.

I smile, tops of my cheeks squinting into my vision as he slows, though doesn't make to turn.

"Hello, magician" I say into the crowd. As I do, another voice speaks in tandem, behind me.

"Ceres? You are late!"

I see Asra turn further, seeking out the voice, _my_ voice. 

In the light of my responsibilities with this trader, it is enough. My smile becomes cheekier, a little less restrained.

Though only for a moment, as I return to my original path, following my own voice, that of the trader.

I can feel his eyes as they find me. 

It's as if I have known him before.

But when? Where?

It's as if I know how he would feel.

The way he looks at me...

As if he feels the same way, too.

I sense his smile, and the briefest, most comforting returned press of his magic to mine.

Before he walks away.


	2. then i

The forrest opens into a clearing.

Not many of us know it is here. Or so it seems by the soft, undisturbed grass beneath my feet.

The energy is fresh, alive.

Perhaps nobody knows it is here at all?

I set my basket down; feeling the moss beneath my feet, between my toes.

My eyes fall closed. I breath the woody scent in, let it invigorate me.

Allowing my cloak to fall from my shoulders. Reaching up, releasing the pin from within my hair.

Lavender tendrils fall around me, the smell of rose infusing the atmosphere.

My hands fall to my sides, open, towards the moon.

The candles float into a circle around me.

All except for one.

So connected to my breath, to this forrest, I do not notice.

At least, not my with eyes.

"Hello, magician."

It's their voice, this time.

I notice him first, walking into the clearing before me.

The sunken candle between us, flame flickering, second.

It doesn't reach the ground, though the flame diffuses entirely.

Asra sets his own bag down, a brown satchel, further out and away from my own. 

Lifts their own hand, focusing.

The ignition is not as effortless as mine were, and yet with his powers the wick ignites, burning brightly once more.

The candle raises back up, joining it's sisters in formation, with mine.

They smile; lines of pink extending, becoming fuller.

My lips curl and rise in return.

Barely restrained.


End file.
